


Kept In Darkness

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel Corruption, Angst, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Fallen Angels, Guardian Angels, Love at First Sight, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Kink, Protective Original Percival Graves, Religious Conflict, Spoilers, angel dust is a drug in a way, credence has long hair, graves shushing during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence is a Guardian Angel who's been given a new charge, a devoted servant of God who needs protection.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lonely Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160006) by [LicieOIC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC). 



> very much inspired by this http://maxkennedy24.tumblr.com/post/156459851727
> 
> the angel dust idea is courtesy of the amazing fic linked, a fandom i no longer regularly participate in, but was very instrumental in getting me into fanfic. <3

* * *

 

 

The first time he saw the boy, he originally thought he’d imagined the whole thing. He had paused mid sentence in his sermon as he looked to the back row, which was usually the least attentive, and spotted a shirtless and dark eyed figure.

There was a severe contrast between the pale skin, what appeared to be white and gold speckled wings, and the raven colored hair, but the second he blinked, they were gone.

He frowned, and continued preaching, but couldn’t quite get the image out of his head, as if an echo similar to staring at the sun was burned into his retinas.

That night he prayed a bit longer, hoping that all the church needs would be met, and he could finally help those in need be at peace. There was an orphanage he often gave his time to when not working at the church, and he knew they were in need of new volunteers.

Idle hands were the devil’s workshop, so the bible said.

He wrung his own hands together, and finally went to bed, falling asleep hours later. Only to be plagued by fitful and dangerous dreams, disturbing his usually peaceful sleep.

*

Credence had been given his new assignment, and it had all been going perfectly well, until he realized just who he was watching over.

He’d nearly fallen over when he landed inside the man’s living room, spotting him cooking his own breakfast, humming in a low tone, and wearing plain black slacks and a rather fitted white shirt.

No robes or collar yet.

Credence was staring, he knew, but for what end, he didn’t.

The man passed right by him, unawares of course, as Credence leaned against the wall to the dining room, watching, almost unable to look away.

His new charge was a bit older than he usually got, possibly late thirties or mid forties, he couldn’t remember anything he’d read suddenly, except for the man’s name.

Father Graves.

Credence tried to think, to focus.

The Father was the current target of a secret plot by the demons and darkness, and it was why Credence had been brought on so late in his life. Graves hadn’t always been religious.

He used to be a lawman.

Graves had faced death over a dozen times, and never resorted to prayer, until he’d lost his wife in a car accident a couple years back.

Credence’s heart had ached for him, as he’d read the file, and he’d accepted the task happily.

Now, he hugged his wings close, relishing the comfort of their softness, and he hoped he could do right by the man. Keep him safe and protected from any evils.

He hovered until it was time for the man to leave, and then landed atop his car to ensure he’d have the best viewpoint, from which any potential threat could easily be dispatched.

For his first few weeks with the man, he saw not a single demon.

When Father Graves got his usual haircut for the time of the year, Credence supposed, he thought it made the man look infinitely more handsome.

That was all right.

Appreciating beauty in all things of God’s creation was perfectly fine.

It wasn’t until he was standing in the man’s living room, and he got caught by surprise, nearly running into the man as he moved to retire to his bedroom that there was an issue.

The man clipped his wing as he walked past, not feeling a thing himself, of course, but to Credence it was as if he’d touched him, and it made him shiver.

He didn’t notice the grey smudge on his wing until a couple days later, and though he rubbed it furiously with the palm of his hand, nothing happened.

It wasn’t dirt, it would be impossible for anything earthly to stick to an Angel’s wing. But it wasn’t going away either.

Credence wasn’t quite sure what to think.

*

The next time he saw the boy, it was a month since he’d gotten his hair cut, and it was starting to get a little wild on the top, so he’d need to get it fixed.

He walked out of the church and towards his car, and he thought he saw the reflection of a somber face with sharp cheekbones behind him, looking somewhat longingly.

He turned around and found nothing but empty air, no one else in the parking lot but him. Bringing a hand to his temples, he pressed hard at the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

It had been a long week; perhaps he could skip the barber and just go home for a nap. Haircutting could wait.

He fell asleep easily enough, and didn’t have any disturbing dreams like he had been, and he wondered if it was due to the phantom hand he could feel, petting over his forehead as fingers stroked gently through his hair.

He woke up with a start and found nothing there, but he could feel a breeze from the window he’d left open in the living room.

*

Credence had just been trying to comfort the man, to let him sleep easier. Since the Father been working so very hard, so diligent, being such a model servant to the lord.

It filled him with guilt to know that _he_ was turning into something he didn’t think he could ever have been, all from one moment, tumbling into another.

His wings were barely off white anymore, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his shield failed completely, and Graves would see him, blink, and Credence would still be visible.

Tears stung his eyes, and fell the ground with a hiss. Angel’s weren’t supposed to cry unless they’d seen the face of God.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to fly back to heaven at the rate he was going.

He had tried to be good, he really did, hoping he could erase some of the darkness from his wings, but then Graves was coming out into the living room, past towards the kitchen, and Credence was lost, staring at him.

Usually the man never emerged from his bedroom but fully clothed, but that morning it seemed he’d been too tired, or hungry to care, so he was just in a light blue bathrobe, and every time he moved, more of his neck and chest were exposed by the parting fabric.

Credence lifted his wings to curl around his body, hiding the man from his sight as best as possible, and praying for his own forgiveness, but it seemed he’d lost control of his very thoughts.

His mind was betraying him, as his wings bore the evidence of his sins. More and more patches of grey, and gold barely still gleamed on the edges.

His legs were quaking as he walked out to the man’s car with him the next Sunday, and he could barely hold on to the roof as it moved.

He fell to the ground once the car stopped, rolling onto his back, wings scattering stray feathers, and bit his tongue to keep from crying out. His speech usually wasn’t audible except in dreams for humans, but in his current state, he couldn’t be too sure.

Still no demons had been spotted, though Credence wasn’t in any condition for a righteous battle for a soul. His sword had probably turned to dust in its sheath.

He hugged himself tighter, and sat behind the man, curled up beside an empty podium, hoping he could spot any threats proper from where he was.

When the choir began, Graves moved back from his own podium to hold his bible in clasped hands and hum along. The man didn’t like to sing, but he appreciated the music.

Credence could admire him for that.

He felt a sting, and he looked over to find one wing fully absorbed, all traces of white and gold gone, simply dark as a thunder storming sky.

“No…”

He whispered, reaching out shakily to touch it, and confirm. The feathers were still soft, and lightweight, but they would not carry him in the air, not like they were now.

His fingers were covered in a fine grey power, which glistened red in the light. Far from the shimmer of pure gold it used to be.

“Hey… are you okay?”

Credence jumped as there was a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to find the room empty, but Father Graves standing in front of him, seeing him.

He must have fallen asleep in his despair, something he’d _never_ done.

Angels didn’t _sleep._

Lucky thing no demons had come along to hurt his charge, he’d have been left defenseless.

He shivered, and flinched away, the man’s hand so hot it almost burned into his skin.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here.”

His wings were folded away, and he realized he must have fallen asleep on top of them, making them shrink back against him.

It had to be the only reason the man had dared approach him.

Probably thought him some poor vagabond.

“Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe. Here, you must be freezing.”

The man was shucking off his outer robe, and setting it about Credence’s shoulders, and he realized he could finally smell the cologne he’d seen the man applying every day. For what purpose, he didn’t know, but it was incredibly comforting.

“Can I drop you off somewhere?”

Like a homeless shelter.

Credence bit his lip, and shook his head.

“It’s all right. I can find my own way. Thank you.”

“Nonsense. Do you not have a home to return to?”

The man was looking at him with concern in his dark eyes, heavy brows furrowed, and Credence shook his head. It was true now. Heaven would never let him back the way he was, burdened so much with sin he couldn’t fly.

He didn’t even know when it had gotten so bad, but he supposed coveting and greed and the perversion that came with appreciating the man’s beauty _constantly_ had done it.

“I have a spare room, if you’d like. I promise no harm will come to you.”

Credence smiled faintly.

He’d already been staying there, technically, the man just didn’t know.

“Okay.”

*

The boy wasn’t so much that as a young man who looked heartbreakingly sad and seemed misplaced. Not from the Lord, but from the world.

He looked so small, almost vanishing into Percy’s robes, and he hunched his shoulders in the car, as if trying to become even smaller.

The good thing about it was that it meant Percy hadn’t been going crazy, when catching glimpses of the dark eyed and dark haired creature.

Why he walked around without a shirt on was anyone’s guess, especially in the middle of one of the coldest months on record.

He didn’t look malnourished as most people in his situation usually did, and he was very soft spoken, only responding with words when Percy asked a direct question.

His usual small talk went mostly unquestioned, and only when he passed the young man a spare shirt from his wardrobe did he speak again.

“Thank you.”

But instead of putting it on, he just held it a moment, and stared at Percy. Normally as head of the congregation, he was used to dozens of eyes on him, but when it came to the young man before him, something about his gaze made Percy feel… strange.

Like there was actual weight and purpose behind it, and it wasn’t until he forced himself to walk away, to start making a cup of tea for each of them that he felt like himself again.

“So what’s your name?”

He returned to the living room with the steaming mugs in hand, and held one out to the young man, who again, seemed to get lost staring at it. He hadn’t put the shirt on either, just set it aside, as if waiting for later. He was still drowning in Percy’s outer robe, and somehow, it looked better on the young man than it ever did on him.

“Um…”

Percy smiled,

“Nice to meet you _Um_ , I’m Father Graves normally, but you can call me Percy, outside of the church.”

The young man blinked owlishly up at him and something like a hint of a smile quirked his own plush lips.

Percy gulped.

Where did that thought come from?

“Sorry, no, it’s Credence. I know who you are, Father, I couldn’t dare call you anything less.”

Percy took a sip of tea, wincing at the still too hot water,

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a man of God. No one but Him is worthy to call you by your given name.”

Percy frowned,

“Now who told you that? I’m not exactly the Pope. There’s no need for such formality.”

Credence blinked again, and then took a sip of his own drink, as if to avoid answering.

He coughed and spluttered after a moment, and Percy plucked away the mug,

“Sorry about that. I should have warned you it was still too hot. But I thought you could warm your hands on it at least.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the pain. It’s new.”

Percy’s mind was racing with the meanings behind that, and Credence was glancing away, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand.

Then he was studying his hand, flexing his own fingers,

“I’ve never been cold before either. It’s different.”

“Where are you from exactly, Credence?”

Dark eyes widened, and he seemed to be trapped under Percy’s own gaze,

“I’m not sure you’ll believe me if I told you.”

Percy reached over to pat his knee,

“I think you might be surprised. I’ve heard just about everything.”

Credence didn’t seem too sure, but then he was shrugging off Percy’s robe, and glancing back, before there was a pair of charcoal grey wings suddenly springing forth, nearly making Percy fall off the couch.

*

Credence watched the man carefully, and he didn’t seem afraid, or about to scream in terror, so perhaps he wasn’t quite as ugly as he thought.

His wings had darkened further since the church, and now there was a visible tinge of red along the edges, where it had once been gold.

“What are you?”

The man asked with a touch of awe to his voice, not a hint of anger, and Credence thought for certain he might cry.

“I used to be an Angel. I don’t know what I’ve become. But I can’t fly anymore.”

His voice quavered without his permission, and his eyes stung, so he looked away, to the ground, blinking as tears fell, and he could almost imagine the feeling of hellfire licking at his skin.

“Why do you say _‘used to be,’_? Are you not now?”

Credence shook his head.

“My wings were white, and gold, and they were the most beautiful thing about me. Now that I have become a creature of darkness, and sin, they are no longer.”

He jumped suddenly, startling as he could feel the man grazing a hand over the closest wing to him, and it was nothing like the first accidental crossing, so many long weeks ago. It was like lightning was crackling through his veins.

“I think you’re spectacular, nothing like I ever imagined an Angel to be like.”

Credence was unable to stop the tears now. Such words from Graves could not be a lie; his voice rang with sincerity, with truth.

“You really do?”

The man nodded, and withdrew his hand, as if thinking he might have hurt Credence.

His fingers sparkled with the dark dust.

“Is that normal; is it like when you touch a butterfly’s wings? Should I not have done that?”

The man looked stricken, and Credence hastened to assuage his fears.

“I mean. No human has ever done that, and no angel has fallen since… well, the first. But it wasn’t painful. Don’t worry.”

The man stared at his hand for a moment before rubbing his thumb and forefingers together, and the dust turned red, like the ends of Credence’s wings, before vanishing into his skin.

“I think I need another cup of tea. You? What am I saying… can you even eat normal food, people food?”

Credence smiled slightly,

“I may have to now. I didn’t used to. But drinking is okay, when it’s cool enough.”

He took back his cup from the small table in front of where they were sitting and tried a sip.

It tasted sweet, and was still warm enough to sooth his dry throat.

He’d never felt anything like it, but he suspected it was all the years of going without eating and drinking all crashing into his changing system.

Credence carefully folded his wings back down, so that when Graves returned with a fresh cup of tea he could sit beside him again.

“So what did you do, before… that?”

He gestured vaguely to Credence’s back, and he grimaced.

“Well, I was actually a guardian Angel. Not a normal host of Heaven.”

Graves raised an eyebrow,

“Oh? Is there someone specific you guard, or just most humans?”

Credence could feel a peculiar sensation in his cheeks, heat blooming over his skin, as he nodded.

“I was assigned to you.”

Surprise colored the man’s expression, and he set his cup down, looking thoughtful.

“Oh… so those times I thought I saw you… that _was_ while you were there?”

“You saw me?”

Credence’s voice broke, and the man nodded.

“I thought it was just some kind of strange vision, maybe sent by the devil. I mean, why else would I see something so gorgeous and uh, well, tempting while in a church?”

Credence’s face still felt hot, and he ducked his eyes from the man, staring a virtual hole into the bottom of his cup.

“You thought I was tempting?”

There was a laundry list of sins scrolling through his mind, the names of which to describe would have been horribly rude to voice to his current host.

“I mean, no, not technically. I’ve just… well you caught me off guard.”

A breathy sort of laugh escaped the man, and Credence wasn’t sure what to say.

“I tend to take a more liberal view on some things like that, I’ve done weddings for people, for any who ask. But obviously…”

He trailed off, and Credence dared to glance over at him, and the man was just staring at him, mouth agape.

He blinked,

“What?”

“I can’t, uh, shouldn’t, I mean, you’re well, _look_ at you.”

Credence put his cup back to the table, now empty, and pressed his hands together in front of his bare chest, suddenly uneasy. How had Adam and Eve felt after first tasting the fruit?

Ashamed? Aware of their uncovered bodies?

“Should I go?”

“No! Please don’t. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Just ignore me. I’m not thinking straight. I’m not used to such, uh, attractive house guests.”

He almost hurt his neck turning to look at the man, who was burying his face in his hands, mumbling to himself about ‘stupid things.’

“Are you sure you don’t want me to leave? Would it make things easier? I’m sure my days are numbered anyway. At this rate, demons will be coming to collect me.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his own shoulder, feeling the coldness of his fingers on his newly sensitive skin.

“I don’t suppose praying will help the darkness go away?”

Graves asked him, voice a low hush, and Credence shook his head.

“I already tried that. I repented, over and over, but nothing changed. No reversal.”

“What sins could you have possibly committed? You’re an Angel. Or were.”

Credence licked his lips, wishing he had more tea to drink.

“I think it all started because I thought your hair looked nice.”

“Oh?”

Credence started, feeling a hand in his own hair, which was so long it brushed over his shoulders, and covered his neck completely, when he noticed Graves seemed to be closer.

“Your hair is very nice too. Do you get it cut, or is it just divinely manifested?”

He didn’t sound mocking, merely curious, and Credence tried to focus on breathing, now that it was more important.

“It’s just how I was designed. Some angels have blonde hair, or short hair.”

“I see.”

The hand dipped from his hair, from the longest part, to graze over his bare back, and he shivered again, but not from cold.

“What are you doing?”

He found himself asking, his own voice a low murmur he knew the man wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been right next to him.

“Waiting for divine inspiration to stop me.”

The man’s hand slid to his lower back, just below the curve of his folded wings, and his eyes locked with Credence’s, before he leaned closer, and their faces were inches apart.

“There’s nothing divine about me.” He insisted, but Graves just smiled slightly, gaze now having dipped to Credence’s lips,

“I don’t know about that…”

*

Percy wasn’t thinking straight, and he knew he had no one but himself to blame. God couldn’t just drop such a dazzling creature into his life and expect him to ignore it, Angel or demon or not.

Credence didn’t move when he moved in to press a hesitant kiss to the perfect pink mouth. It had been years since Percy had last done that to anyone, much less another man, and the sheer sparks that seemed to dance over his skin at the contact told him he’d done the right thing, for the moment at least.

Surely Credence didn’t have hollow bones like a bird, but considering how he felt so light and fragile in Percy’s arms, he was almost afraid to shift any further, didn’t want to hurt the angel.

But one kiss hadn’t been enough.

He used the hand on Credence’s back to pull him tighter, fingers brushing against a folded wing again, and his mouth moved over the angel’s with purpose, or at least he tried.

Percy was very much out of practice.

The second he felt the angel moving back, a shaking hand pushing into his chest, he stopped.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m probably going to hell now. Corrupting a pure being.”

“I was already corrupt when my wings started to change. But I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

Percy eyed the young man, and his eyes caught on his cheeks, on the sharp jaw that could have been carved from marble.

Credence truly was temptation incarnate.

Was that how angels were _supposed_ to be?

“You’re right. I should go make something for dinner.”

He got to his feet, and tried to ignore how the younger man seemed to sway towards him, before he nodded.

“I don’t know what you like.”

He realized, standing in the kitchen, staring at the fridge, the cold air escaping and seeping into his skin, temporarily halting the fire that had been smoldering slowly inside of him.

“Anything is fine.”

Once the meal was finished and he was sitting across from the angel, still shirtless and with his wings folded back and away, he wasn’t sure if he should pray, or ask the angel to.

“Do you want to say grace or should I?”

“Does it really matter at this point?”

It wasn’t quite said with a tone of despair, but it might as well have been.

Percy gulped.

“Let’s just skip it then.”

It didn’t make the food taste any better or worse, but Percy did manage to keep from staring as the younger man ate.

A few painful moments later, when they’d finished and he’d insisted on doing the dishes later, the angel wandered down the hall from the living room, and he recalled with a start, of course he knew where everything was, he’d been there already.

A lot.

For months.

“Will you be okay in here?”

He paused at the doorway to the guest room, inside which Credence was patting the bed, walking around the furniture, and then lighting atop the comforter.

He didn’t move to un-tuck any of the blankets.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight then.”

“Yes.”

He closed the door and walked to his own room, fisting his hands at his sides, nails digging into his palms to keep himself from doing anything dumber than he had already.

Once he was ready for bed, he went to kneel beside the mattress, intent to pray, to beg for forgiveness for basically leading an angel astray, accidentally or not, when there was a knock on the door.

He brushed his hands over his flannel sleep pants, and shirt. He didn’t usually sleep like that, fully clothed, but he figured it would be easier, and present less of a temptation.

As he went to open the door, he found the angel standing there, wings shielding most of his pale body from view but for his distressed face and bare chest.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep. I never have before, except by accident. Can you help me?”

In the darkness, for Percy only had his bedside lamp on, it was like the red edges of his wings glowed.

“Okay. Tell me what you need me to do.”

Credence padded softly into his room, and then climbed onto the bed, clearly comfortable enough to make himself at home, and folded his wings away.

Percy tried to avert his eyes, but it wasn’t in time.

The angel wasn’t wearing anything anymore.

Had he meant to do that? To come to him completely naked?

“My body feels like it’s on fire. How do you put it out?”

Percy swallowed thickly and fought for the right words to say. How could he explain to an angel it was normal to feel like that? That humans were always aware of desires and needs but mostly ignored them unless with someone they wanted to share it with?

“Okay well obviously, you’ve never needed to sleep before, and you haven’t experienced things like uh, arousal. So basically you just have to…”

“Isn’t that a sin? Fleshly wants?”

Percy sighed.

Credence was wide eyed, and looked almost terrified of himself, his hands wringing together in his lap, hiding his groin from view, blessedly.

“If it’s acted upon unjustly… like if you took advantage of someone who didn’t want the same thing.”

That was basically what _he_ was going to do.

“I don’t want to do that to you…”

Percy was already shaking his head, and stepping closer, if only for reassurance.

“You’re not, not at all. It’s perfectly fine.”

“Do you still think I’m beautiful? Even with this offending form?”

Credence parted his hands, looking down at himself, something like a wince on his face.

Percy fought to keep his eyes on the young man’s shoulders, high enough to be called modest, respectful.

“You’re a marvelous creature. Not usually meant for man to lay eyes upon. I think even with your wings as they are, you’d gain awe from all those who saw you.”

He finally reached out to touch the angel again, almost unable to stop himself, putting a hand to his face, and Credence was nuzzling his cheek against his palm, ripping a gasp from Percy’s throat.

Playing with fire was rapidly becoming more appealing than not.

“I like it when you do that.”

Credence whispered, lips grazing against Percy’s wrist, the warmth of his breath yanking him out of his thoughts.

“You do?”

He nodded, shifting against Percy’s hand.

“Please… more.”

He rubbed a thumb over the angel’s cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I don’t know how much more I can do, and still live with myself.”

A slim fingered hand braced over his wrist, keeping his hand on Credence’s face.

“I want you to. Please.”

Percy hadn’t let himself be consumed, hadn’t even given in to a brief session of masturbation in months, but the shock of lust that ran through him at that plea was impossible to ignore.

He gulped.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just told you what to do?”

Credence shook his head.

“Please, show me.”

He laid back on the bed, miles and miles of pale skin just begging for Percy to touch, to mark up, and he only fought himself a few moments longer, before giving in, climbing onto the bed to brace himself over the angel, and kissing him with a fierceness that surprised him.

Within a few seconds, Credence was squirming beneath him, trying to move his hips against him, seeking friction but not sure how to truly do it.

Percy smiled against his lips and pulled back to scatter a kiss or two down his jaw.

“Like this.”

He guided one of the angel’s hands to his cock, where it was curved up against his stomach, trapped somewhat beneath the flannel of Percy’s shirt, and wrapped his fingers around it, overtop the young man’s own hand.

“Ohhh…”

He hadn’t even done anything, really, but the angel seemed to think it was the most incredible thing, shuddering out a gasp as Percy helped him move his hand.

“You can tighten it if you want, to speed it up, or looser and slow, to draw it out.”

“What do you do?”

Percy choked on a laugh,

“Most times, when I did it, hard and fast.”

“Why?”

“Because I was pretty impatient when I was younger.”

Credence was smiling, somewhat dreamily, probably unaware of how ethereal it made him look,

“What if I’m impatient too?”

“Well, do this.”

He twisted his wrist and moved the angel’s hand with it, and felt his hips jerk involuntarily up, and his eyes widened.

“Can you do that again?”

His voice was strained, and Percy realized he was probably very close.

“Of course.”

He dipped down to press a kiss to the angel’s neck, moving his hand as he did, and when he felt his entire body quake, he couldn’t resist biting a bit over the pale expanse of shoulder in front of him, and he felt his hand become slick as the angel came.

He lay still for quite a long moment afterwards, and he could feel his own heart pounding in his chest.

“Was that… was that right?”

“Yes. It felt good didn’t it?”

The angel hummed, and Percy pulled back up, leaning on his free elbow, and saw that his face was still flushed slightly and his eyelashes were damp.

“Like nothing I’ve ever known. No wonder humans do it so often.”

Percy couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“What about you?”

The angel seemed to sigh, and Percy was startled back out of his hazy thoughts by a strong but shaky hand nudging his shoulder, pushing him onto his back, and he wiped his hand off on his shirt and tried to shrug, nonchalant.

“What about me?”

Credence glanced down to his pajama pants, and Percy knew there was no hiding his erection now.

“Um, can I help you?”

“Really, you shouldn’t. You can sleep now, so you should go back to your room.”

“You want me to leave?”

The angel’s face looked hurt and Percy felt something stab his heart.

“Oh no, of course not. I’m just saying, you can.”

Almost at once, the angel’s wings flared out, darkness enveloping the room, blotting out the moonlight trying to break through the curtains, and even shielding the lamp from view.

“I’m still your guardian, even if I can’t fly, even buried beneath sin. Please…”

His voice fell to a whisper, and Percy was too enamored to argue.

He was in _so_ much trouble; he knew it, as he reached up to carefully touch the nearest bit of the wing he could reach. Soft, so soft.

*

Credence had meant to intimidate the man, to somewhat force him to let him stay, but it didn’t work out quite like that.

Graves just nodded, and looked at him with wide eyes, and wonderment.

When Credence put a shaky hand to the man’s pants, the material of which was as soft as his wings, he felt his body twitch slightly.

“It’s been… a while. Forgive if I uh, seem too easy.”

Credence didn’t understand, but as he drew the fabric down the man’s legs, he couldn’t look away from the organ between them, and he reached out to touch it, feeling another quiver run through the man’s body.

“Tell me what to do.”

He begged, and Graves sighed.

“Just do that, and you’ll be fine. Like I showed you. Fast and hard.”

But he didn’t want to hurt the man, so he didn’t quite grip it like he would the handle of his sword, he was careful, and he moved slowly, watching with interest as the skin shifted up and off the head, which was slick and shiny, even with only a sliver of moonlight entering the room.

The man’s hands were wrinkling the sheets and blankets under him and he wasn’t speaking words, merely whispering nonsense and pleadings, and Credence decided he liked him like that.

“May I kiss you?”

“Of course, come here…”

Credence didn’t quite mean it like the man thought, and he pressed his mouth to the tip, desperate to sin the utmost he could, and a moan escaped the man’s lips.

“How did you know to…?”

He didn’t.

He’d never seen or performed such deviant acts in his entire existence, but he knew if it could be for anyone, he’d do it for Graves.

After a moment, he kept moving his hand and pressed closer with his mouth, trying to taste it a bit better, and there was a hand in his hair, not holding painfully, but firm.

“Please, don’t stop.”

Credence had no intention to.

But he remembered, he’d made a mess upon the man’s hand earlier, and he wasn’t eager to repeat that, so he stayed put, and even when Graves tried to pull him back, tried to speak a warning, he didn’t stop.

He remained there until the man trembled, and he could feel his heartbeat finally slow back to normal.

His other hand caressed the man’s bare thigh, as Graves let out a shaky sigh.

“You… may just be the death of me.”

Credence swallowed a couple times, trying to wash away the strange taste before speaking,

“I won’t allow it.”

Credence said the words, and he believed them, even if the weight behind the promise was unsure. He still _had_ wings, after all. As well as his sword. Though it might burn hellfire and not righteous fire now.

“Who do I thank for you now?”

Credence snuggled against the man’s chest, the soft fabric of his sleep shirt a comfort to his own bare skin, letting his wings fold back down onto his back, so an arm could hold him close,

“Not God… so Lucifer?”

A breathy laugh was his answer.

After a few moments of silence, Graves spoke again.

“Does it taste like anything?”

Credence flushed, and decidedly looked away from the man’s face,

“Tasted a little like communion might, I suppose.”

“Oh god no not that. I mean the dust from your wings. It’s beautiful but is there purpose to it? Is it just for show?”

Credence shivered suddenly.

“I don’t know… why don’t you find out?”

Graves chuckled beneath him,

“Well there’s an invitation if I ever heard one.”

The hand on his back slid up to caress a folded wing, and then he felt the man bring it to his mouth, not daring to look, afraid to find out the answer.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

“It’s like chocolate. Or cocoa powder. I mean, it’s not sweet but definitely… something.”

Credence shifted up to look down at the man, and there was a red shimmer smeared over his bottom lip, as he stared at his fingers, still coated in darkness.

“Wow. Do you feel any different?”

Graves eyed him,

“Not tired, if that’s what you mean.”

Credence’s cheeks were still warm, and he leaned down, just a heartbeat away from the man’s face,

“What else can you show me?”

Graves’ hand tightened on Credence’s leg, somewhat thrown across his body,

“Anything you want.”

*

Percy could scarcely breathe, it was like devouring a cup of coffee, extra strong, and that had been one lick of the dust.

Before he could think better of it, he took another fingertip into his mouth, and sucked all the power off, as Credence watched, wide eyed.

“How does it feel?”

His cock seemed to twitch to life against his thigh, and Percy laughed, a bit breathless.

“It’s amazing.”

As the angel kissed him again, he pulled his body so that he was properly straddling Percy, and he smiled into the kiss.

“What?”

“You are so light, it’s ok, you don’t have to worry about crushing me.”

He could feel the angel still trying to brace himself up and keep himself on his elbows, but at that, he let go, and relaxed further, so that their torsos could collide in a slip and slide of sensitive bare skin.

It was maddeningly arousing, and Percy was quite tempted to roll them over, and just pin the angel to the bed to grind their cocks together with a bit more passion.

So he did.

He shucked off his sleep shirt and tossed it aside, so that there was even more skin to skin contact.

Percy wasn’t sure if it was the dust, or just the angel himself, but he found his control rapidly fading, and he was desperate, hoping he could do more than just ask for a hand or those perfect lips on him.

“Would you let me touch you?”

He gasped out, kissing down the angel’s neck, and nipping slightly at his delicate collarbone, snaring a whimper from the creature.

“What do you mean? You’re touching me right now…”

Percy pulled back to smile down at him,

“Let me show you.”

More kissing down the length of his pale chest and past his navel, and then he dipped lower, ignoring the beautiful hardness of the angel’s cock, and putting his lips between the angel’s thighs, lifting his legs to brace each over a shoulder, and when he did that, Credence arched his back, involuntarily pushing closer.

“Oh-h-h, what’s that?”

Percy smiled against his sensitive skin,

“its how I would make love to you… if you wanted.”

The angel was wide eyed now, cheeks flushed and lips parted.

A gorgeous thing to behold. Maybe it was better he was _fallen_ , lest Percy be unable to look at him.

He massaged a hand over the plump curve of ass he could reach, and the angel’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Tell me what you want.”

His cock was protesting, he could feel the head smearing a cool slickness against his stomach and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without taking care of it, angel dust or not.

“I do. I want that. Please. Show me.”

Percy pressed a sloppy kiss against the angel’s nearest thigh, and then scooted away,

“Be right back.”

He practically skipped over to the bathroom to retrieve the necessary lubrication, and when he returned the angel was still lounging on the bed, but had his wings outstretched to rest his arms on them, almost coating his own skin and the bed in dark dust, which glittered red as it was moved against.

“Father Graves… since I can’t return home, how long could I stay with you?”

Percy set the tube down on the bedside table and came to sit by Credence’s side, chastely putting a hand to his arm, caressing the pale skin,

“I’d be honored if you wanted to stay with me, for an indefinite amount of time. I mean, I probably need to consider a new profession, and you don’t need to call me that… remember?”

The angel dropped his gaze, and nodded.

“Sorry… Percy.”

“It’s fine. I mean, I do love the formality, more than I should.”

He leaned down to kiss the angel’s forehead, and then dragged his fingers against the dust smudging along his shoulders.

“Do you still think I’m beautiful? Even like this?”

Percy blinked, and then looked over at him. It was like he’d been kissed by fire and ash, without a mark on him but the darkness bleeding over his skin where ever he’d rubbed against his own wings.

It was a hauntingly lovely image.

“Credence, I think you took my breath away the first time I saw you, accidentally or not. You will never cease to amaze me.”

The angel was sitting up, flinging himself into Percy’s arms, and he caught him gladly, reveling in the fierce kiss.

The angel’s wings curved around them both, and Percy decided that yes, of course, he was going to keep the angel as long as he’d let him.

Eventually the kiss turned heated again, and less perfect, more tongues and teeth, and the angel was pushing him back down onto the bed.

“Show me what to do.”

Percy blinked up at him, and then smiled. He’d been planning something else entirely, but if the angel wanted to _do_ him, he wouldn’t say no.

“Get the tube over there, and put a, um, do you know measurements?” The angel nodded, “Put about a teaspoon on your palm, dip your fingers into it and then touch me here.”

He guided the angel’s bare hand between his legs, and just let him graze a finger against him, drawing a gasp from Credence.

“Like you touched me?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“I’d like it very much.”

Credence actually bit his lip as he concentrated on doing what Percy had instructed, and it was quite frankly adorable. The first press of a cold and slick finger into him was a stretch, and burned slightly, but it had been a long time.

After a few moments, the angel had two fingers inside, and when he moved just so, they brushed against the place that had him seeing stars.

By the time he was panting again, his cock drooling onto his stomach and achingly hard, he was at the point where he’d beg.

“What do I do next?”

The angel was asking him, and it broke through the haze of arousal clouding his vision. Percy blinked, and then wrapped a shaky hand around Credence’s cock, and he jumped slightly.

“Put some more lube on your gorgeous dick and then replace your fingers with it.”

He was smiling now; he couldn’t help it, at the look in the angel’s eyes.

“But wait, isn’t that…”

A sin.

Oh yes.

In the olden days.

“Trust me.”

The angel nodded finally, and did as he told him, as he leaned back to watch better, he shifted his legs up to bend at the knee and reached out, so that the angel would take his hand, and he laced their fingers together.

“When?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Credence actually bent over to kiss him, just as he began to press inside, which no amount of preparation would have really helped, but Percy appreciated the distraction, and even when the angel was fully seated, it was an impossible sensation.

He hadn’t ever done that sort of thing before, but after all, he didn’t really think he could let himself be the one to defile a former angel of the Lord.

Judging by the way Credence’s face was screwed up in concentration, the second Percy peeked open an eye to check on him, it felt _very_ good for him.

“How… are… you?”

The angel gasped out, as he carefully pulled out and thrust back inside Percy again, and he just gritted his teeth, and reached up with his other hand to grasp the back of the angel’s neck,

“Good. So good.”

It was, after a few moments, when he finally let himself relax, and he dug his ankles into the bed, letting Credence get a bit more friction as he moved, until he was trembling against Percy, and shaking his head.

“I can’t keep doing this much longer, it’s overwhelming.”

“Shh-hh, it’s all right. Come for me when you’re ready.”

The angel’s head fell back and exposed his perfect pale neck, jaw dropping as he crested, and Percy wanted to freeze time in that moment, but instead he just sat up and leaned in close to mark the side of the angel’s throat, and felt a hand on his own cock, stroking shakily.

“God… that felt marvelous. How can this be so wrong?”

Percy shook his head, dizzy with need, as he could feel the angel still dutifully touching him, trying to bring him to his own climax.

He put an arm around the angel even as he felt him slowly pulling back, out and away from him, and he stopped him with his other hand, still gripping his neck.

“Wait.”

Credence nodded, and tightened his grip on Percy’s cock, as he shifted the arm at the angel’s back, and rubbed some of the dust off him, so that he could move close and kiss over it, licking a bit.

He came a few seconds later, bliss crashing over him, and the angel was shuddering out a sigh, feeling it through where they were still connected.

When he finally let go of Credence, to collapse fully against the mattress, he suspected he would need to change the sheets, from more than just the showering of black dust.

“Was that good? Did I do it right?”

A hand was snaking over his chest, trying to splay over his heart, and Percy smiled dreamily, looking over at the worried expression on the angel’s face.

“You were perfect. If you’re not careful, you’ll make me fall in love.”

Credence’s eyes widened and he swallowed, before ducking his head, and looking up at him from under his long lashes,

“I’m already fallen, for you. So that would be… nice.”

Percy reached over and cupped a hand against the angel’s face, watching with a fondness that made his heart hurt as Credence nuzzled into the touch.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you.”

“Me too.”

*

fin

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> yeah im just.... sorry but NOT.


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